Antares by In Astra — the tuberose that smiles back when you bite

I don’t wear tuberose to behave. I wear it to take up space. Antares by In Astra does exactly that, but with a feline grace that kept surprising me hour after hour.

First inhale and it blooms fast. The tuberose isn’t bubblegum or bridal, it’s succulent and sun-warmed. Frangipani wraps it in a creamy, solar halo that reads like skin after a late swim. There’s a lushness that borders on indecent, then it reins itself in with a salt-tinged breeze and a faint, humming spice. If you’re sensitive to white florals that shriek, relax. Antares purrs.

On my skin, the opening is heat and nectar, the heart is a soft-focus glow, and the drydown is silk on collarbones. Texture is the story here. It moves from humid and ripe to satiny and low-lit without collapsing into syrup. The frangipani keeps the tuberose buoyant, nudging it toward sun lotion fantasies, but the composition never tips into beach cliché. It stays nocturnal, like a night-flowering vine on a city balcony.

Projection sits in that perfect confident radius. People will smell it when you move. Longevity is solid, easily an afternoon into midnight, with the creamy part lingering like a private joke. It reads genderless. On a leather jacket it feels cinematic, on bare skin it’s just delicious.

What I love most is the attitude. Antares doesn’t apologize for being sensual, and it doesn’t perform pageant tricks to prove it. No loud sugar, no screech. Just a well-lit white floral accord that lets the body do the talking. If you’re hunting for a niche tuberose that keeps its petals intact while flirting with the feral, this is your mark.

Wear it for drinks that start at sunset, for warm climates where the air already hums, or for winter rooms that need oxygen. Spray it and watch your posture change. In Astra named it after a red supergiant, and that fits. It glows, it pulls you in, and it leaves a trail that feels like heat remembered.